“He’s all right! Aren’t you, cat? Poor cat! Poor slob! Poor slob without a name! The way I see it I haven’t got the right to give him one. We don’t belong to each other. We just took up one day by the river. I don’t want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together. I’m not sure where that is but I know what it is like. It’s like Tiffany’s.”

“Tiffany’s? You mean the jewelry store.”
“That’s right. I’m just CRAZY about Tiffany’s!”

“I’m like cat here, a no-name slob. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don’t even belong to each other.”

“The blues are because you’re getting fat and maybe it’s been raining too long, you’re just sad that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?”

‘Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany’s. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that’d make me feel like Tiffany’s, then – then I’d buy some furniture and give the cat a name!”

“Promise me one thing: don’t take me home until I’m drunk – very drunk indeed.”

“I’ll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead.”

“It’s better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear.”

“He’s all right, I suppose, if you like dark, handsome, rich-looking men with passionate natures and too many teeth.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, Fred, darling… I’d marry you for your money in a minute. Would you marry me for my money?”
“In a minute.”
“I guess it’s pretty lucky neither of us is rich, huh?”
“Yeah.”

“Moon River, wider than a mile,
I’m crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you’re going I’m going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There’s such a lot of world to see.
We’re after the same rainbow’s end–
waiting ’round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.”

“I love you. ”
“So what.”
“So what? So plenty! I love you, you belong to me!”
“No. People don’t belong to people.”
“Of course they do!”
“I’ll never let ANYBODY put me in a cage.”
“I don’t want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!”

“You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”